The One That Got Away
by Dreamer1503
Summary: SQ
1. Chapter 1

**I**

The room was dark, the candles had died out hours ago and neither of them stood up to switch the lights on. It was better this way, because they could both hide their feelings from each other. Emma moved an inch in her chair and the wood creaked, cutting through the silence like shattered shards of glass on a marble floor. _Her_ marble floor. The stainless chequerboard.

Regina was seated in the sofa across the living-room. When Emma squinted she could perceive the vague outlines of her body. The elegant line of her crossed legs, wrapped in the softest black nylon. The slender feet, one firmly on the ground, the other impatiently rocking in the air. The slightly muscled line of her crossed arms. The little curve of her dark brown hair, her head bent to the side. It could have been a famous still-life.

"Regina... I'm sorry, I didn't intent to cause you pain," Emma finally said. She'd repeated the words over and over, first in her head, then a dozen times out loud. They were becoming worn and meaningless. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Regina bit her lip, and looked the other side. A single tear ran down her cheek and landed in her lap. She didn't care, her make-up was ruined anyway. All kinds of emotions surged through her: anger, because of the unfairness of the situation and because Emma had lied to her, confusion, because she couldn't get her head around it all, disillusion, because it'd been too easy and too good to be true. But the worst feeling of all was the overwhelming sadness, the knowledge that she would be alone... again.

"Just say something..." Emma tried, resting her head in her hand. "We've been sitting here for ages."

"What do you want me to say?" Regina uttered hoarsely. Her voice was shaking, and her throat hurt like hell. "All I can say is that your intentions really. don't. matter."

"I told you, I planned to tell you, sooner or later, but I had so many things on my mind. And _y_ _ou_ were never home early, I just never saw the opportunity to-"

" _Don't_ put this on me, you had plenty of chances to talk about this! But no, instead you thought it was wiser to keep rolling around with him and to keep it from me," Regina interrupted bitterly. "I thought I was more important to you than that."

She quickly sniffed and shifted her legs. How had it ever come so far? Sure, it'd been a bumpy road since day one, when Emma appeared in her frontyard with Henry, but they didn't weigh against all the good memories.

"You are important to me, Regina. And I hope we can still keep contact, if only because Henry still needs you. You're his mom, and he'd be heartbroken if you'd shut him out because of me," Emma said softly.

She stood up and reached out to the whiskey bottle that Regina had left there earlier. With trembling hands, she poured herself another drink. The amber liquid was almost gone. Her patience too. Suddenly, her phone lit up, it was three in the morning.

 _Ems, did u tell her? Hope ur ok. Hook_

Emma rubbed her hands together, thinking of an appropriate answer. Was she alright? What _did_ she feel? It was all unclear.

"It's him, isn't it?" Regina asked, her voice reduced to a whisper.

Emma sighed, looking wearily at her. "Yeah, he asks how it went. I don't know what to answer. Clearly it went as bad as could be, but-"

"You know what? Just go, miss Swan... I don't want to see you again in my house, just go, go, I don't mind!"

"Regina, I don't want to part in the middle of a fight. Can we at least-"

"Go to him, kiss him, make love to him, for all I care! Do give him my sincerest greetings when you'll lie in his arms!" Regina said, suddenly raising her voice.

"Regina! Be reasonable, I-" Emma forcefully began.

"If he cares to stay up all night... I bet he's been waiting, waiting to claim you, waiting to propose to you? Is that it? Are you going to marry? Have children? Walk to your happily ever after together? Maybe you _are_ already expecting? All under my nose!" Regina started yelling.

She suppressed her outrage, she'd suppressed it up to the point where her big bubble of anger had to burst. And now she was getting beside herself. She didn't care if she lost decorum now, nor if it would ruin her reputation. What was reputation but a stupid label, made up so that some people had a reason to hate you.

"Regina, if you only cared to listen, it's none of those things. Not yet, in any case! Jesus, woman..." Emma said, running her hair through her blonde locks.

Regina fell silent, and she studied Emma for a few seconds. The words "not yet" rang in her ears. She was trembling from head to toe, she couldn't bear to be in the house anymore. All the memories surrounded her and blew-up in her face. Eventually, in one blast of purple smoke, Regina fled the house.

The poppies in the grass were gently swaying in the nightly spring breeze. It was cold.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

 _October 23, 2011 -_ Exhausted, Emma stumbled into the landing of her apartment. Number 205 it was, not that she was into numbers. Leaning with one hand to the cool wall, and balancing a bag of groceries on her other arm, she kicked off her heels, because they were killing her. The clock in the kitchen told her it was 11:34 pm and she threw herself backwards in the sofa. Rest, finally.

She closed her eyes for a second, inhaling and exhaling deeply. It had been a hell of a week, fifteen different cases and more than half of them appeared to be absolute jerks. For example the man she dealt with tonight. The plan was always more or less the same: first a bit of research, a friendly chat, then reeling them in with heaps of flattery and eventually dating them until the right moment came to take down the façade and to urge them to take their responsibility. Not that it was always men she had to approach. Women could be just as vile and usually they turned out to be more cunning, hence more work.

She let out some air as she stared at the blank ceiling. Since when had her life become so utterly boring and monotonous? And above all, damaging to the soul. Integrity, honesty, trust... they all hadn't been very high on her list of traits lately. She closed her eyes again and listened to the soft zooming and honking of the cars outside. To doze off or not to doze off, that was the question. She felt she could. Sleep was like hunger, it poured a nice sauce over everything. Even her couch wasn't so hard to the touch anymore.

Just when she'd up her mind to stay in the sofa for the night, the doorbell suddenly rang. Emma frowned, sitting up reluctantly. The times she had had visitors she could count on one hand, and on those rare occasions when she had visitors, they didn't come around midnight.

Drowsily tiptoeing on barefoot, she wobbled to the front door, which she opened just a smidge. On the threshold was a small boy, no older than 10, she estimated. Raising an eyebrow, she looked about the corridor, but he seemed unaccompanied except for his small backpack and his quirky grin.

"Er... Can I help you, kid? Are you looking for someone?" Emma asked.

"Are you Emma Swan?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"Great! I was worried I'd have the wrong address, I'm Henry, your son. Can I come in?"

The boy smiled from ear to ear and before Emma could even answer something, he slipped past her into her apartment. Stupefied, she stood there for a second, holding the door. Then, when it began to sink in what just happened, she closed the door and followed him into the kitchen.

"Wait a minute... my son? I don't have a son. Kid, where are your parents? They must be worried sick, it's almost midnight, and you're - what?- nine? Ten?"

"Yes, you do have a son. You gave me up for adoption ten years ago, remember? By the way, do you have orange juice? Or any juice at all? I'm parched," Henry said, while dumping his backpack to the ground and going over to the fridge.

Without asking for permission, he grabbed the bottle, opened it and gulped down some juice. All the while, Emma was helplessly standing there, looking at the absurd scene that was playing out in front of her.

"Kid... I don't know why you turned up at my doorstep, and I don't know who you are, but I know one thing. It is the middle of the night, you're a child wandering the streets... so I'm going to call the police," Emma decided, waking from her stupefaction.

"No, don't call the police! Please?"

He gave her an intense look, one that, no matter how hard she resisted, made her heart melt. "OK, tell me what you're doing here first... then I might call the police."

"I'm here to bring you home. In Storybrooke, Maine."

" _Storybrooke?_ Seriously?..."

The boy nodded in earnest, "What's more, you got to save everyone there. There's been a curse, and everyone used to be a character in a fairytale, but now they don't remember, and their happy endings are all stolen from them."

"You've got a lot of fantasy, kid. I would even go so far as to say you've got problems, serious ones. _This_ is my home. The only one here who's got to go home is you..." Emma said, while picking up the horn of the phone again.

"Please, come home with me. I don't want to go to the police station."

Emma sighed. "You know what, never mind about the police. If I bring you there, they might even suspect me for child smuggling or kidnapping... OK, give me an address and I'll bring you home myself. Come on."

Before Henry could object, she grabbed his backpack, her car keys and her red leather jacket.

* * *

A few hours later, Emma's yellow bug crossed the town line of Storybrooke. The name still sounded ludicrous, but then again, the US hosted towns like Husband or Brilliant or even Boring. There's always someone better than you. The same goes for weird nomenclature.

"So, kid, you will have to give me some directions. This the main street?" Emma asked, while slowing the car.

"Yep, it's the first street on the right, the big house at the end. You can't miss it..." Henry said softly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"What's up? If it's a punishment you fear, I got to take your mom's side. Running so far away from home is kind of a bad thing to do."

"No, it's not that. You see, now that I found you... I don't want to return to my mom, she's evil, she doesn't love me, she only pretends to."

"Evil? That's a bit extreme, isn't it? It can't be that bad. I'm sure she cares about you a lot, so come on, get out of the car, she'll be in a stew by now."

Henry half-heartedly got out of the car, dragging his feet down the small path to the house. The moment the lights automatically went on, the front door swung open and a woman ran towards him.

"Henry!" she yelled in relief, as she threw her arms around him. "Are you OK? Where have you been? I was so concerned!"

Instead of hugging her back, the boy's face scrunched up and he snapped: "I found my real mom."

The woman hadn't noticed Emma before, and now she looked up. Awkwardly, Emma raised her hand and mumbled a quick "hi". The woman's beauty struck her. Her slender body was enveloped in a light grey, rather tight dress, her legs in panties, that were slightly diaphanous due to the light in the hallway that fell on the path. Black heels and earrings topped it off. She was a brunette.

"You're Henry's birth mother?" the woman asked hesitantly.

"According to him...yeah. I'm Emma Swan."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. The woman was scrutinising her, giving her a complete once-over. It was hard to tell what she was thinking. Suddenly, her expression changed into a strained smile.

"Miss Swan, nice to meet you, I'm Regina Mills. Henry's mother. Say, how would you like a glass of the best apple cider you ever tasted?"


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

Her head ached. Her heart too. Pensively, Regina paced up and down her vault. It was an obvious escape, but it was the only place she could think of where people would leave her alone for a little while. And she could seal it off with magic without hindering anyone.

She stopped and watched the glass she held in her hand. Due to the sudden lack of movement, the red wine also stopped swirling and little droplets trickled down the sides. As she looked up, she was confronted with her own reflection; her hair was messy, her mascara left black smears on her cheeks and her dress was frayed.

"So much for a happy ending..." Regina mumbled to herself.

Seeing herself in the mirror, anger all of a sudden rushed through her. After all she'd sacrificed, after all her efforts to revert to the good side, she didn't deserve this. With all her force she hurled the glass away. Glass shattered, her image was gone.

Silently weeping, Regina fell on her knees between the rubble. The anger subsided. Heartache filled its void.

* * *

Emma drove the yellow bug up to the edge of the forest, and she stopped the car on a little cliff that overlooked the whole of Storybrooke. Her phone lit up for the tenth time since she'd left Regina's house. Hook must be starting to get anxious, she thought, but she didn't feel like picking up. Not tonight.

Of all the feelings she expected, she didn't anticipate confusion. Hook and she had discussed this moment for hours on end, had gone through every possible outcome - and one happened, Regina ran away in rage - but a muddled state of mind had never been included on their list. This was the right decision, right? She liked Hook, he liked her, for once her life could be that simple. Could be.

She chided herself. Now was not the moment to doubt! The door to her own happy ever after was wide open and within reach. Either she could confidently walk through it to grab what was rightfully hers or she could linger in the doorway and miss an opportunity that could be the best one life had to offer. He confessed his love to her for God's sake, he asked her to move in with him! How hard could it possibly be for her to open up to him?

Her phone lit up again. Glancing sideways out of curiosity, Emma saw that she received a text, it was an unknown number.

 _Mom, where r u? And where's mom, she's not home either? Couldn't reach both of u cuz battery died. Violet's parents took me home, party was :D! Henry_

For a second Emma looked at in bewilderment, then she slapped her forehead: of course Violet's birthday party! She was supposed to pick him up at 12! She let out a sigh and leaned forward, resting her head on the steering wheel. Great, now she was an ignorant parent as well.

How was she going to tell him? He'd be devastated learning that she'd eloped with someone else, a man at that. And a man he'd got to know as a kind of uncle instead of a possible lover for his mom.

She looked back up. The lights of Storybrooke glimmered in the dark, but it all seemed faraway from where she sat. Just like the elated feeling she'd harboured since Hook kissed her for the first time. She'd been so sure, and yet she couldn't shake off the nagging thought that it was all one big mistake.

* * *

The dawn carefully crawled over the town. She shyly peeked from behind the trees, throwing specks of light unto the dark grey asphalt, she stealthily slipped into bedrooms through the curtained windows and with every step she took the world woke just a little bit more. She was sorrowful though, because she couldn't bring warmth. Not as long as Winter sat on the throne.

Mary Margaret and David sat at the kitchen table in their flat, both still yawning and rubbing their sleepy eyes. Baby Neal was sitting on David's lap, chirpy and wide awake. While gibbering and cooing, Neal alternated grabbing the buttons of his father's shirt and everything that was on the breakfast table.

"Neal was awake early today..." Mary Margaret sighed, before taking a small bite of pancake. She wasn't really hungry.

"He sure was. Is it just me or is it getting earlier and earlier by the day? It was still dark this morning. Hey, have you heard from Emma lately?" David asked, while trying to keep his son from falling down to the ground. The baby was wriggling with all its might.

"No, have you? Well, I shouldn't worry, she's in good hands. You know, somehow I've always had an inkling that she and Regina... you know, would get together. They had that tension."

Mary Margaret smiled as a memory flashed through her mind.

 _Emma was restlessly pacing up and down the flat, clutching the toaster that she broke out of frustration an hour earlier. Just when she was forcing the screwdriver into the guts of the machine, Mary Margaret came in with two bags full of groceries._

 _"Did the toaster do something to you?" she asked, while taking the lettuce out of the bag._

 _"It's Regina. You know how I would've become Sheriff, like Graham wanted me to? Well, she barged into the station this morning and fired me. She's placing one of her own puppets on the job. It's_ not _fair!"_

 _"That's the first time I've seen you so fired up about it... Are you sure it's just the job?"_

 _"Guess so... OK, maybe I wanted to like her, I wanted to see another side of her, but it's like she's constantly trying to prove me wrong. That she_ is _so unbearably mean._ "

 _"She's been like that for as long as I can remember, but no one's ever had the guts to face her. The whole town trembles at the thought of going against her... What's your plan?"_

 _"My plan?"_

 _"Yeah, if there's someone who's brave enough to confront her it's you. You won't just let her get away with this, right? Oh, and first of all, put the toaster down, it's already dead."_

 _"Why should I resist? I mean, honestly, I don't know what chance I have, she's mayor and I'm... well,_ me _."_

 _"Because sometimes the things you dread, might be worth it the most?"_


End file.
